


New Life

by thesewarmstars



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, M/M, New Vulcan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1644035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesewarmstars/pseuds/thesewarmstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Posted on the new Vulcan homeworld with his newly discovered son in tow, Jim must learn to build a new sort of life.  It’s too hot and too bright, but with old Spock for a babysitter and Bones for good company, everything seems to be coming together.  But when a mysterious plague threatens the colony, he’ll have to work with the Spock from his own universe before it’s too late.  Sometime between their shop-talk in the lab and sunny afternoons in the park, a hope springs that together they’ll find more than they lose.  Follows movie canon through the confrontation at Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Life

**Author's Note:**

> **Author’s note:** Many thanks to scienceblues for fruitful discussions of plot points.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Link to Art:** by raja815. WARNING! This image contains spoilers for the story. If you'd rather wait, there will be another link to the art at the appropriate place in the story.  
> [Link to raja815's art](http://raja815.livejournal.com/144297.html)
> 
>  **Link to Art:** by jadebriady. WARNING! This image contains spoilers for the story. If you'd rather wait, there will be another link to the art at the appropriate place in the story.  
> [Link to jadebriady's art](http://s816.photobucket.com/albums/zz85/JadeBraidy/?action=view&current=kkbbuntitled212.jpg)
> 
>  **Link to Art:** by mieaou. WARNING! This image contains spoilers for the story. If you'd rather wait, there will be another link to the art at the appropriate place in the story.  
> [Link to mieaou's art](http://mieaou.livejournal.com/1075.html)

After waking, Jim lay on his back for several minutes staring at the ceiling. It was not a starship ceiling, not the Enterprise. It was the yellowed and pitted ceiling of his dorm room, a familiar sight that ought to have been comforting. After nearly six weeks, though, Jim just wanted to get out of there already.

Across the room, Bones turned over and mumbled in his sleep. He didn’t used to do that, but ever since they got back dirtside he’d been muttering through nightmares.

Jim tried to tune him out. The man deserved his privacy.

With a slow, quiet sigh, he rolled onto his side and reached for his PADD. He had two messages waiting, one text and one vid. He pulled up the text.

Orders, it was his orders! He scanned the document quickly, then read through it twice more with increasing irritation. Sure, he hadn’t expected them to just hand him a starship or anything, but _Starfleet Liaison for the Planetary Defense of Akraana_? He’d never even heard of Akraana! At least his commissioned rank was Commander. He’d feel good about that, but he was still hung up on the word ‘planetary’.

He punched up a number on his PADD then, glancing over at his still-sleeping roommate, ducked into the closet just in time to muffle the ‘Pike here’.

“What’s this bullshit about a dirtside posting?” Jim demanded in a harsh whisper.

“Jim, calm down, I worked – ”

“Calm down! I’m supposed to be out there exploring the goddamn galaxy, you know, in _space_! I don’t know where you get off grounding me, but – ”

“That’s enough!” Pike snapped. “Those are your orders, Commander.” He stared hard at Jim for a moment then ground out, “You’re welcome,” and cut the connection.

Jim blinked at the blank screen. With a huff, he pulled up a new window to find out where the hell Akraana was. He never really got there, though, because the first thing in the entry was that it was the site of the new Vulcan colony.

He scowled and clenched his fists, trying not to rage out on his innocent PADD. Where the fuck did Starfleet get off, anyway?

Mostly to distract himself, he called up the vid message. He wasn’t as surprised as he might have been to see the face of a Vulcan woman, who looked about fifty with long, straight hair and a totally blank expression, but nothing could have prepared him for what she actually said.

“James Kirk, it is my duty to inform you that your son is available for you to retrieve from the Facility for Children without Clan in the city of Ch’Toll on the planet Akraana at your earliest convenience. I am authorized to inform you that David Marcus is in acceptable health at this time. T’Nal out.”

Jim wondered if maybe he shouldn’t just go back to bed and start this weird-ass day over.

\---

Spock was torn. On the one hand, he had an obligation to Starfleet. But was that not also true of his people? He had signed up to serve, but were there not broader implications to be considered? The ‘fleet was decimated, but nonetheless thriving in comparison to what remained of the Vulcan people.

Ten thousand.

Estimates varied, but thus far only 9,912 surviving individuals of Vulcan heritage had been unequivocally accounted for. Due to standard evacuation procedures, 40.607% of these were children – more than double the ten-year average of 19.9%. 

There was more work to be done than there were people available to do it.

But now, more than ever, it was imperative for the Federation to present a strong image. They had too many enemies, anxious to pounce on them in their time of weakness, to waste time in shoring up their defenses. Experienced officers were a scarce but much needed commodity, and he would be a valuable addition to any starship.

He knew he would think of his mother every time he set foot on a transporter pad, remember the horror of completely losing control of his emotions whenever he was on the bridge, feel the pain and emptiness of a broken bond, of 5.88 billion Vulcans dying as he rode the turbolifts. He knew he could not forget, but could he constantly relive the battle without losing whatever of himself was left?

He did not know.

He sat as his desk in his quarters at Starfleet academy, staring down at his hands, and the answers did not come.

\---

The ride to Akraana, previously known as Centauri II, from Earth was nearly 13 days at warp 5. It had seemed like forever when they started out, but now that they were only half an hour away Jim started wishing for a massive engine malfunction.

“He’s how old?” Bones asked, his tone deceptively casual.

“Thirteen months.” Jim frowned. “You think they mean thirteen Earth months or thirteen Vulcan months? Did they have months on Vulcan?”

“Thirteen Earth months, genius. He’s an Earthling. He was born there, right?”

Jim ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I think so. It wasn’t until a few months ago Carol got the posting to the VSA. I didn’t – Bones, she didn’t even – ,”

“I know, kiddo. But can you really blame her? Even I was reluctant to let you anywhere near my kid a couple years ago.” 

Jim made a face.

“Oh, shut up. You know you were even crazier then than you are now. But you’ve grown up a lot in the last couple months – we all have. You did fine when Joss brought her over after we got home, right?” He put a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Look, no one knows what they’re doing the first time around. They don’t come with spec sheets, for christsakes! You’re gonna do fine.”

He gave Jim’s shoulder two firm pats and withdrew. “Now stop being so goddamn dramatic. You look like the world’s about to end – I’ve seen that, I know what it looks like now. Trust me, this ain’t it.” 

Before Jim could explain to Bones that he definitely wasn’t being dramatic – and even if he were, didn’t he have a pretty compelling reason? – the ship-wide PA system came on.

“Now in standard geosynchronous orbit around Akraana. All personnel headed to the surface report to the transporter room.”

Jim darted a glance toward Bones. “I thought our ETA was still ten minutes away.”

“Yep,” Bones said, swinging his pack up onto his shoulder, “That’s why they call it an _estimate_.”

“Ha ha. You know, you didn’t have to come with me.” He glanced left and right at the corridor junction. “It’s this way, right?” he asked, jerking his thumb to the right.

“Straight ahead. Good thing they didn’t make you navigator. And I didn’t ‘come with you’. I’m a doctor, not your goddamn babysitter. They need medics. They need a hospital. They need medicine. I am _not_ here for you and your overinflated ego.”

Jim grinned as they queued up outside the transporter room. “Sure. Okay.”

\---

The first thing Jim noticed about Akraana was that it was bright. Really bright.

“Hey, did you know this planet has two suns?” he asked, pointing to the sky, where there was one star that looked pretty much like Sol and a second that was a little bigger than Luna when she was full.

“Yeah, the big one’s Alpha Centauri B and the little one’s A. Did you read your briefing book at all?” Bones grumbled. 

“Um. No?” There was a briefing book? Jim shrugged. “Which way do you think to the Facility for Children without Clan?” He looked around at the makeshift and half-completed buildings. “This _is_ Ch’Toll, right?”

“There was a big sign that said ‘Ch’Toll Port of Entry’ in the transporter building. Are you honestly telling me you can’t see two foot tall letters right in front of your face?”

Jim didn’t answer. This was definitely Ch’Toll, all right, because four buildings down the hard-packed sand road was the orphanage. The Facility for Children without Clan. It was a large pre-fab metal building that had been painted blue at a point Jim imagined was decades past.

“Come on, Jim,” Bones said softly, and Jim followed him to the door.

The interior was so dark compared to outside that at first Jim couldn’t see a thing. He paused in the entryway and blinked his eyes, trying to clear away the spots. 

“What do you require?” asked a voice to his left.

“Oh, um.” His eyes were finally beginning to adjust and he saw the woman from the vid message. He couldn’t remember her name. “I’m, uh. I came to… you know… ” He trailed off and waved his hand toward the center of the room where several children sat, most of them alone or in groups of two, looking down at personal computing devices.

Bones stepped up to the Vulcan woman. “He means he’s here to pick up his kid. David Marcus.”

“You are James Kirk,” she said, turning her attention back to Jim.

“Yeah. Yes. That’s me,” he answered, not looking at her. He scanned the room, trying to pick out a head without pointy ears. He didn’t see one.

“The younger children are in a separate room. I shall take you there.”

“Thank you kindly,” Bones said when it was clear Jim wouldn’t answer. “I’m Dr. Leonard McCoy, by the way. I’ll be working with your healers to get a hospital set up.”

She led them to a door in the corner of the room. “I am T’Nal,” she responded as she opened the door. “This is Navak,” she said, nodding her head toward a Vulcan man seated in a chair with a small child in his lap. “He will assist you.”

With that, she left.

There were a few clusters of toddlers on the floor and Jim immediately spotted one with light, curly hair. David. He was sitting with three other toddlers, grouped around a pile of blocks. 

“Well, Navak, I’m Leonard McCoy. This here’s Jim Kirk.” Bones tilted his head toward David. “That’s his boy.”

Navak stood, setting a Vulcan child of about two Earth years on the floor by his chair. He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. “Remember, Sivan, that you must not touch others’ psi points without permission. Further infractions will not be tolerated.”

She nodded solemnly and Navak turned his attention to Jim, who was still staring at David, and Bones.

“There are three forms you must sign, Commander Kirk.” When Jim did not so much as look at him, he repeated more sternly, “Commander Kirk.”

“Yeah?”

“You must sign these forms before you may take your son home,” he said with what might pass for compassion in a Vulcan, and held out a PADD. “Please do so.”

“Right,” Jim said, taking it from him. He signed all three forms without reading them and handed it back. “So, I just… go get him?” He gulped. “Just like that?”

“ ‘Just like that’,” Navak confirmed. “I am certain he will be… gratified to see you again.”

“He’s never seen me in his life,” Jim muttered.

\---

Spock looked around the lab with satisfaction. It was sparsely furnished at present, but the new Vulcan Science Academy building was not even completed yet. He could hardly expect a state-of-the-art facility at this early stage. It would provide him the opportunity to put what resources were available to their best use and obtain those items he deemed best suited to his purposes.

He still was not certain how to regard his older counterpart, but he had to admit that his advice to join the Vulcan colony at Akraana seemed to be sound. The VSA must have been truly desperate for experienced scientists to accept someone with his particular… history. The decision was logical; he would be of use here, and perhaps the environment would be conducive to reordering his turbulent emotions. 

It would surely be superior to serving in Starfleet, surrounded by Humans and their rampant emotionalism, their constant attempts to draw him out, to evoke an emotional response, which, when he failed to provide one, resulted in either pitying looks or accusations of heartlessness. Here, he could attend to his experiments and live in peace. If his past experience was anything to judge by, the other colonists would want very little to do with him.

He would focus on his assigned task of exploring the biodiversity of microbial life on Akraana. He would furnish his new laboratory with everything he needed, keep the company of his microscope and his microfluidics chips and his cultures here in this sterile environment, meditate on his lapses in control on the floor of his new quarters.

He would keep to himself. He would do his part, make a contribution, perform a function useful to this society of which he was a part.

He would go on. 

\---

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Jim asked old Spock – who Jim was apparently supposed to call ‘Selek’ now – one more time. He was having trouble believing that any version of Spock was so eager to help him out.

“I am quite certain,” Selek answered. “I have been assigned very few duties thus far, most of which can be completed via computer. Another’s presence is not unwelcome,” he said, turning his eyes to David, who had one hand fisted in his father’s hair. “Especially not one so vivacious and full of curiosity.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Jim said, disentangling David and handing him over. He swung David’s bag from his shoulder to rest on the table. “I’ll be back for him around 1730 hours. Thanks again for, you know, doing this.”

“It will be my pleasure.”

“Okay, good. Good.” He waggled his finger at David. “You have a good day with Uncle Selek, buddy. I’ll see you tonight.”

Jim set off for the headquarters of Akraana’s law enforcement personnel for his first real day on the job. He couldn’t say he really felt bad for yelling at Pike, but he could admit that this posting was definitely better for raising a kid than lugging David around all over the galaxy or, even worse, leaving him behind. He was pretty sure he was a crappy excuse for a parent, but he had enough first-hand experience to say he was a better choice than any of his relatives.

Still, though, he was glad to have help. He’d only had David for two days so far, and he was already overwhelmed. It was a damn good thing his quarters were already furnished with the essentials, because it had never occurred to him he’d need to get a crib or a high chair or baby clothes. He certainly hadn’t thought about daycare, so it was lucky for him that Selek was lonely.

He was also hoping Selek would be able to cheer David up. When he thought of babies – which he could admit until recently had not been all that often – they were always playing and laughing. David did not seem like an especially happy baby. 

Jim figured he was missing his mom, but what was he supposed to do about it? He was pretty sure he’d never made anyone happy in his life, and he had no idea where to start.

The law enforcement building looked to be only half-finished, and what was there wasn’t exactly the most inspired architecture. Still, he guessed it was impressive that less than two months after setting up on Akraana there was any sort of building at all.

“Commander Kirk, welcome,” was the first thing he heard when he opened the door. “I am T’Sala, Defense Coordinator and your second in command.”

Jim guessed she was a little older than him. She had a short, no-nonsense haircut and did not stand up to greet him. He looked her up and down appraisingly and she just raised an eyebrow that seemed to say, ‘I know I’m hot, but if you’re done, could we move on to actual work?’

Jim figured he was going to like this lady.

“So, why don’t you get me up to speed with your progress so far, T’Sala?”

\---

Spock snapped another slide into place on the stage of the epifluorescence ‘scope. If this sample was also positive, it would bring the percentage of microbes he had observed on Akraana that were RNA-based to 4.95%. No living organism except viruses, which were arguably not living organisms at all, had been described as having an RNA genome before. He would need to consult with experts as the university on Centauri VII as soon as possible.

He took the tiny spark of excitement that threatened to blossom inside him and tucked it into a tight, dark place in his mind where it would quickly be extinguished. Instead, he concentrated on adjusting the fine focus, throwing the aperture wide open.

There was no signal in the 575 nm filter channel. No RNA over 10 kilobases present. Negative sample.

Even at 4.5%, RNA-based life was an amazing – 

His comm chimed.

“Spock here.”

He blinked at his father’s face on the screen. Had he been fully human, he might have been surprised. As that was not the case, he gave no outward indication of his reaction to hearing from his father for the first time since they were both on the Enterprise.

“My son.”

“Father.”

“Are you in acceptable health?” Sarek asked.

“I am.”

“That is well. Have you selected a new wife?”

Spock took a slow breath. “I have not.”

“Very well,” Sarek replied with a nod, as if he had expected such. “I shall locate a suitable candidate on your behalf.”

“That will not be necessary,” Spock answered with perhaps too much force. “You need not trouble yourself.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “What is necessary is never troublesome. You must produce progeny as soon as possible.”

“Progeny?” Spock parroted, at a loss.

“Of course. If Vulcan society is to regain its place we must increase our numbers.”

“There are currently 1,890 Vulcan children without parents or other clan members available to care for them, yet you would have my first priority be to add to the disproportionate number of children on this planet. This is not logical.”

His father’s face grew sterner, a feat Spock had not thought possible. “Increasing the population of our species is immanently logical. I will commence the search.”

The channel went dead.

Spock almost wished, illogically, that he had allowed his earlier excitement to grow, purely for the possibility it might have mitigated the dread with which he was now nearly overcome.

\---

“It’s okay, everything’s all right!” Jim said, pleading with the small, screaming person in front of him.

David continued crying, his face red and blotchy, snot and saliva running down his chin. His mouth was open wide enough that Jim could see all five of his teeth, and his tiny fists were clenched and waving emphatically. Jim had fed him, changed him, made sure he got his nap. He had tried carrying him, bouncing him, rocking him. Nothing made any difference.

“Would you just shut up?” Jim snapped, immediately regretting it. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Even though David didn’t seem to notice his outburst at all, he apologized. “I didn’t mean that. I just… What’s wrong, buddy? Can you help me out at all?”

No response.

He commed Bones. “I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with him! He just screams and screams. What’s the matter with him?”

“Calm down, Jim. He’s probably just teething. Have you tried giving him a teething ring, or rubbing ice over his gums?”

“Teething? Why would that make him scream bloody murder?”

“’Cause he’s in pain. Cutting teeth hurts. Try the ice, comm me if it doesn’t work,” Bones instructed, then hung up on him.

“This is ridiculous,” Jim muttered as he stepped over to the replicator. He requested ice and waited rather impatiently for it to appear. How did Bones know everything? Was it med school? Was it all stuff he learned by trial and error raising Joanna? How come everyone seemed to know how to take care of kids except him? 

There had to be a way to fix this. He was totally out of his depth, here. Everyone kept telling him ‘they don’t come with manuals’, but there had to be _some_ sort of info out there.

He just had to find it.

\---

_Enter forum ‘Colonies and Outposts’ - > ‘Akraana’ -> ‘Parenting Q&A, Humanoid’_

_Create new topic_

**191615311.2230.06** : My clan desires that I reproduce. I am attempting to gather enough data to formulate a hypothesis regarding my suitability for such an undertaking. Will anyone describe to me their experience of raising children?

 **LogicalMother, re: 1916…** : Creating a family is a logical choice.

 **VokauMal-kom, re: 1916…** : I have found the experience rewarding. 

**478.23.JLSH, re: 1916…** : Children are inherently illogical creatures. Being around them stresses my mental defenses.

 **UpToMyEyebrows, re: 1916…** : I think the experience varies a lot from person to person. Some are just better suited to be parents than others. 

**191615311.2230.06, re: UpTo…** : Would you elaborate? How does one discern whether one is ‘suited’ to the task?

 **UpToMyEyebrows, re: 1916…** : I don’t think there’s really any way to know for sure beforehand. But I figure if you want them enough to have them on purpose, you’ve got a better chance than most.

 **191615311.2230.06, re: UpTo…** : Would you consent to further discussion on a private channel?

_Enter channel 11347.86, participants 191615311.2230.06 and UpToMyEyebrows_

**UpToMyEyebrows** : Hey, you there?

 **191615311.2230.06** : Affirmative.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Got more questions? Ask away.

\---

Spock remained skeptical of his father’s idea. He had performed research by surveying various Vulcan parents and was no closer to resolution. The statements he had gathered were too vague or too specific or too contradictory to be useful.

One individual – one of the many humans currently on the planet to aid in construction and other logistical efforts, he presumed from his manner of speech – had advised him to cease seeking external input. To look, instead, inside himself. 

Spock did not desire a new bondmate. He was satisfied with his work and did not wish to increase his interactions with others. He did not desire it, but he predicted he could tolerate it. After all, he had experienced twenty-one years bonded to T’Pring with few ill effects.

But offspring. Offspring were another matter entirely.

He attempted to itemize, to weigh pros and cons. His conclusion was that the sole positive outcome was the objective Sarek had cited: increase the Vulcan population. The reasons not to pursue such a course seemed without end.

Most superficially, he did not desire to decrease the amount of time he spent in his laboratory. Even now, as he enumerated his mental list, he sat at his workbench examining the progress of his latest assay of the effects of various antibiotics on the native microbiota of Akraana, and that task was foremost in his mind. He was accustomed to working long hours, to asking endless questions and pursuing the answers regardless of the time of day or expected duration.

Children required care, supervision. Even with a wife to share the burden, he would be expected to participate. His current habits would not be acceptable in the face of such responsibilities.

Additionally, he could not help but consider his own childhood with all its taunts and looks, assumptions and prejudices. He was not at all sanguine about introducing another part-human child into Vulcan society. Despite the much-vaunted ideal of IDIC, it seemed actual Vulcans were prepared to tolerate a decidedly finite range of diversity in equally finite combinations.

He also regarded the models he had to follow: his mother, a human woman, who could not understand why her son refused her hugs, who coaxed him to laugh even knowing it could be detrimental to his health and development, who claimed to love him unconditionally but nonetheless had expectations; his father, a prominent Vulcan citizen, who could not be bothered to take time from his busy diplomatic schedule to interact with his strange son, who refused to form a parental bond with him because of the danger it could pose to his own mind, who looked at him and invariably found him wanting.

Neither was a shining example of parental perfection.

Most importantly, perhaps, he did not know whether he could find within himself the fortitude, the resources to raise a child. What if the child despised him? What if he or she was ashamed of him, belittled him? 

He knew that most parents sought immortality in their young, a continuation of self beyond their normal lifespan. He did not want that. He was not willing to inflict on a sentient being the burden of growing up to be like him.

And so, Spock remained skeptical.

\---

“Knock, knock. Anybody home?” Jim asked through the open doorway.

Selek appeared. “I see you received my message.”

“Yeah, I got it. Who is this Sonak guy, anyway?”

Selek raised an eyebrow. “My neighbor.”

“Yeah, I got that from the text,” Jim said with a roll of his eyes.

“Previously, he was a member of the Janus VI colony, where – ah, I shall introduce you,” he interrupted himself, gesturing to the figure who appeared from inside the dark house. “Commander James Kirk, this is Sonak son of Ronak.”

“Commander. I have secured the child for transport.”

Jim’s eyebrows went up, but then he saw David and it turned out he was just strapped into his stroller. “Right. Thanks.”

“How are plans for the orbital defense system progressing?” Sonak asked, then gave a little half-cough and cleared his throat.

“Well, they exist. Which is an improvement, I guess. Hey, are you okay?” Jim asked. 

“I am well,” Sonak answered, clearing his throat again. “It is simply the dust. The settlement on Janus VI was underground, and I am unused to blowing particles.”

“Oh yeah, the dust here’s a bitch. Not as bad as the sun, though.” He turned to Selek. “Is it always going to be like this? When’s winter going to come?” 

Selek raised an eyebrow. “As Akraana’s axis of rotation is perpendicular to its orbit around Alpha Centauri B, there are no seasons here. Winter is never coming.”

Jim’s jaw dropped in horror.

“There are, however, pseudo-seasons caused by the relative position of Alpha Centauri A to this planet. For half the year, it shares the sky with its sister star and brightens the day by a small but noticeable amount. The other half of the year, it will occupy the night sky, much like your Luna, and it should be one to two degrees cooler during the day.” 

Selek tilted his head to the side as if considering something and added, “Of course, with an apparent magnitude of approximately minus twenty it will over 600 times brighter than your full moon. Bright enough for humans to see by quite easily.”

“Wait. It’s going to be light at night?”

“Somewhat. You could read by it, but it will not be bright enough to affect photosynthesis,” Selek explained.

“That’s just… that’s fucked up.”

Selek made a face that Jim translated as ‘Humans are illogical creatures, but you amuse me so’.

Shaking off his offense at how this new planet was daring to treat him, Jim smiled down at David. “Hey there, little man. Did you have a good visit with Uncle Selek and Sonak?”

David stared at him blankly.

“Right, good. Well, tomorrow is Daddy’s day off, so let’s tell Uncle Selek bye-bye and you’ll see him in two days.”

David blinked, then scrunched his face into a tiny, baby scowl. Ordinarily, Jim probably would have thought it was cute. Lately, though, he’d seen too much of it. Now it just made him sad.

“Come on, buddy,” Jim said softly. “Let’s go home.”

\---

 **191615311.2230.06** : You would not recommend parenthood in general, then?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Well, that’s not exactly what I meant. I think it’s great if you’re equipped for it. 

**UpToMyEyebrows** : Psychologically, I mean.

 **191615311.2230.06** : Are you finding the experience a positive one, thus far?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Mostly. I guess it makes me feel good that I’m doing the right thing and giving my son a family that loves him.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Which I do, of course. I’ve only had him with me now for a couple of weeks, but I’ve bonded with him already, I think. I can’t imagine giving him up.

 **191615311.2230.06** : And does he love you?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Well

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : What do you mean?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : I’m sure he does. I think he misses his mom a lot.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : It doesn’t matter. I love him no matter what.

\---

“Explain to me exactly why you have to spend your day off harassing me at work?”

Jim shrugged. “You’re just reading reports.”

“Yes. That’s where the work part comes in. Paper _work_ – perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

Jim cocked his head as if considering. “Hmm. No, I don’t think so. Hey, have you been talking to T’Sala?”

Bones grumbled something Jim figured he was probably glad he didn’t catch. 

For a few minutes, Jim gave Bones a break from his chatter and just sat on the edge of his desk swinging his legs and looking at David, who was asleep on his blanket on the floor. He was snuggled up in the blanket nest with his little fists holding it close to his chin.

“What was Joanna like at this age?”

Bones looked up at his soft tone. “She was… she was my baby. My world.”

Jim nodded. “Yeah, but what was _she_ like? Was she… happy?”

“Well,” Bones started, considering seriously, “I think so. She hit all her developmental milestones right on time, so she was laughing and babbling like a loon. Toddled around, falling on her butt every ten seconds.” A wistful smile crossed his face. “Loved to play pat-a-cake with me.”

“So, has David hit all his… what did you call them?”

“Developmental milestones. Seems to have. I can’t speak to when he started holding his head up or rolling over, of course. All his records were lost. But based on what I see now, I’d say he’s doing just fine.”

Jim looked down at his knees. “But he doesn’t laugh or babble.”

Bones gripped Jim’s shoulder for just a second before he spoke. “He’s had a traumatic experience. His whole world’s changed – twice – in the last two months. You’ve just gotta give him some time.”

“You think?” Jim asked, skeptical. “It’s not just that he doesn’t like me?”

Bones raised an eyebrow. “Mighty egotistical, aren’t we?”

Before Jim could defend himself, there was a knock on the door.

A nurse, human, popped her head in. “You’ve got a patient.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

“We’ll walk out with you,” Jim said, carefully scooping David up in his blanket, trying not to wake him. He squirmed a little, but then settled back down. He followed Bones out to the clinic area.

“Hey, Sonak!” Jim called semi-quietly. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Sonak raised an eyebrow, but otherwise did not respond to Jim’s no doubt illogical greeting.

“Hey, are you sick? Is it that cough?”

“It is, in fact, ‘that cough’,” Sonak answered.

“Jim, go away and let me treat my patients,” Bones said, hands on his hips.

“No need to get prissy.” Jim turned to Sonak. “Hope you feel better, man. See you.”

As Jim carried David down the dusty streets toward the Starfleet barracks, he considered Bones’ words. He looked down at David, who was just blinking his way out of his nap.

“Do you like pat-a-cake, little man?”

\---

“I am running an experiment that is 65% complete. My presence is required for its continuation,” Spock said to his father. He did not call him father. He had always had a disinclination to do so, but followed social norms in an attempt to prove he could, that he could be part of the Vulcan social norm. 

“I predict this conversation will take 1.1 minutes. Can you spare this amount of time?”

Spock did not lie. He did not because there was no logical reason to postpone speaking to Sarek. “Affirmative.”

“Very well. I have located a suitable candidate. I have also scheduled an appointment for you at the clinic to ensure you are in optimal health. You will meet her tomorrow at 1230 hours for the mid-day meal to discuss your bonding. I will transmit the coordinates to you when this communication is terminated.”

Spock’s first instinct was to say, ‘No, I will not.’ He took a slow breath and reconsidered. “And a candidate for yourself? Has a suitable woman been located?”

Sarek’s eyebrows went up. “For myself?”

“Yes. It is clear that you think it logical to repopulate our species with all due haste. When do you plan to start?”

Sarek’s eyebrows settled back down into a scowl. 

“Be there at 1230 hours tomorrow, Spock,” he said.

The screen went black and Spock felt, illogically, like he had won something.

\---

Spock walked – stiff, rigid – into the clinic at 1459.7 hours and was seated on a biobed at precisely 1500. Approximately 55% of the medical professionals on the main clinic floor were Vulcan, and it was one of these who came over to Spock with a medical tricorder in hand.

“You are Spock, son of Sarek?”

“Affirmative.”

“I am Solan.” With that, the doctor went silent and focused on various scan readouts.

Spock was still for 3.4 minutes before he gave in to his curiosity and looked around. It appeared that at least 95% of the patients present were Vulcan and 54% were children. He observed two adults with obvious abdominal distress, likely due to consuming food products native to Akraana their gastrointestinal systems were not used to digesting. Surprisingly, seven individuals – 18.9% of those present – seemed to be experiencing respiratory distress in the form of coughing. Perhaps there was an allergen present on Akraana.

A blue Starfleet uniform caught his eye. He believed the individual to be Dr. McCoy, a rude man who had served briefly on the Enterprise. He scurried into an office before Spock could be completely certain.

“You appear to be in overall good health,” Dr. Solan said, pulling Spock’s attention back to him.

“I am sure my father will be gratified to hear it.”

“Perhaps. As I said, _overall_ your health is acceptable. You are, however, sterile.”

Spock’s eyebrows went up. “I beg your pardon?”

“I can say with confidence that your hearing is adequate.”

Spock nodded and looked down. “Haldane’s Rule,” he whispered to his knees.

“Indeed,” Dr. Solan said. “It is not entirely unexpected.”

He was right. It was quite common for heterogametic individuals of many interspecific hybrids to exhibit some degree of sterility. Spock knew he should have considered this possibility, but for some reason it had never occurred to him.

Spock half-heard the doctor say, “Check out at the desk on your way out,” before he left. It was several minutes – Spock could not say exactly how many – before he followed those instructions.

\---

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : So, have you come any closer to a decision?

 **191615311.2230.06** : It no longer matters.

 **191615311.2230.06** : I had news yesterday.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Oh? Good or bad?

 **191615311.2230.06** : I am uncertain. Sarek made an appointment for me at the clinic and the doctor who examined me told me I am sterile.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Oh, no. I’m so sorry.

 **191615311.2230.06** : Kaiidth. What is, is.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Yeah, but sometimes what is sucks.

 **191615311.2230.06** : In truth, I am somewhat relieved. There is now no immediate reason for me to bond with the woman Sarek chose.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : So you didn’t like her?

 **191615311.2230.06** : I never met her. Sarek cancelled the lunch meeting as soon as he learned of its futility.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Are you upset you’ll never be able to have kids?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Do _not_ tell me Vulcans don’t get upset.

 **191615311.2230.06** : You know me too well.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Never _too_ well. So?

 **191615311.2230.06** : Perhaps. Before I heard this news I had not made a decision regarding reproduction. But I do find myself somewhat regretful.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Yeah. You might not have realized it, but I thought you were leaning that way.

\---

Jim sat in his office, his chin resting on one fist, ‘doing paperwork’. Mostly, he was browsing the nets for games to play with toddlers and signing a report every few minutes without really reading it. After all, it wouldn’t do for T’Sala to realize he was slacking off.

Pat-a-cake had been a hit with David. Jim had actually gotten a high-pitched squealing giggle of out him, and he was on a mission to find more things to make his boy laugh.

Hmm, hide and seek could be fun. He wasn’t sure how many good places there were to hide in his tiny quarters, but then how much space did a 14-month-old really need?

The door to his office opened suddenly. He wouldn’t say it slammed, but it was a near thing. Maybe ‘Fleet had the right idea with those automatic doors…

T’Sala glared at him. “Commander, why have you approved a request for alcoholic beverages to be included in workplace replicators?”

“I… what?”

“It is an entirely frivolous, if not _dangerous_ thing to do, and I am surprised at your blatant disregard of professionalism and responsibility, not to mention regulations.”

“Look, it was an accident, okay? I guess I didn’t read the report very closely before I signed off on it. That’s my fault. I’ll take care of this, and it won’t happen again.”

It was a shitty thing to do and he was feeling pretty stupid about it, but the way T’Sala’s eyebrows were furrowed and the tone of her voice… were her hands clenched into fists?

“Hey, are you okay?”

She blinked at him in surprise. “I am… adequate.”

“Are you sure? Because you seem a little… tense.”

“I assure you, my efficiency has not suffered,” she said in a clipped tone. If she were human, Jim imagined, she’d have had her hands on her hips.

He held his hands up, palms out in surrender. “Whoa, I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just trying to help. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

After a silence that felt long but probably wasn’t, a breath whooshed out of her and she seemed to deflate with it. “My bondmate. He is being… difficult,” she admitted.

Jim’s eyebrows went up. Definitely not what he’d expected. “Are you guys having a fight?”

“Certainly not. We are having a… disagreement.”

“Uh-huh. Over what?” Jim asked, trying to kill a smile.

“He is ill and refuses to seek medical treatment. He is being completely illogical!”

“He’s sick? That’s not good.” He held a hand out to offer her a chair. She took it, perching on the edge of the seat. “What’s wrong with him?”

“A persistent cough. He insists it is simply an allergy! The dust!” she said, waving her hand at the window as if to blame the blowing dust for her bondmate’s lack of logic.

“Well, it _could_ be, right? It’s really…” 

Something prodded Jim’s memory, something about the dust…

“Wait a minute, I know a guy who’s having the same problem! He went to the clinic for it, but I don’t know what the doctor said.”

T’Sala’s eyes widened. “Truly? Perhaps we could contact your acquaintance…”

Jim’s comm beeped and cut her off. The transmission was marked urgent but not private, so he said, “Hang on a sec, let me get this.” He pressed the button to accept the call.

“Kirk here.”

“Jim.” 

He could tell by Selek’s eyes that whatever this was, it wasn’t good news.

“Hi, Selek. What’s up?”

“I believe you should retrieve David from my home. I do not – ” He broke off and coughed. “I am concerned for his health.”

“Wait, is he okay?”

“He is well. I simply do not wish to take the chance of passing this cough on to him.”

Jim ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll come and… Did you say you have a cough?”

Without waiting for Selek to answer, Jim turned to T’Sala. “Comm your bondmate, get him to go to the clinic. That’s three people now – it could still be an allergy or something, but we should find out for sure.”

She nodded and stood to leave. She was pressing buttons on her PADD before she was out the door.

“I’m on my way, Selek,” he said, and signed off.

\---

[Link to raja815's art](http://raja815.livejournal.com/144297.html)

\---

“Bones!”

The clinic was busier than he’d seen it before, but not too crazy. Definitely not a good enough excuse for Bones to ignore him.

“Boooones. Over here!”

“Jim, what do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

Jim pointed to the Vulcan standing next to him. “Selek here is sick – he has a cough. And David,” he bounced the baby on his hip, “has been staying with him every day. So he might be sick, too. You have to check him out!”

Bones dragged his hand over his face. “Fine. Get him on a biobed – both of them.”

Selek seated himself and Jim jumped up onto the bed next to his with David in his lap. Bones turned to David first and started scanning.

“Has he been coughing at all?” Bones asked, not pausing to look up at Jim.

“Well, no. I don’t think so. I would’ve noticed that, right?”

“Yes, Jim, even you.”

Jim huffed and tried to keep David still while Bones finished up his scans.

“Well, he’s fit as a fiddle. I think he’s gonna cut another tooth soon, but other than that there’s not a thing wrong with him.”

Jim smiled. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to more teething, but it was certainly good news. “You hear that, buddy?” he asked, running his finger down David’s nose. “You’re good to go!”

“Go!” David parroted, waving his hands.

Jim laughed. “That’s right, we’ll go soon. Just as soon as Uncle Selek gets checked out.”

\---

Slowly, methodically, Spock pulled his consciousness back up through the layers of meditation it had sunk past. He became aware of the air moving against his skin, the stiffness in his back, the flickering light from the fire pot. He ascertained that 74.4 minutes had passed since he began.

His meditation had been somewhat successful. He still wished, illogically, that he could speak with his mother regarding recent developments. He still wished, equally illogically, that had never heard Dr. Solan’s diagnosis. Conversely, he no longer experienced the hot, sharp anger directed toward nothing and everything that had been present since his examination.

His condition was no one’s fault.

Resolving to stop dwelling on things he could not change, he rose and went to his desk. A blinking light indicated that he had one vid message waiting.

He pressed the button to play the message and was surprised by the face he saw.

“I’m Leonard McCoy with Starfleet Medical, stationed at the clinic here in Ch’Toll. I’m told I can reach the VSA’s microbiologist on this line?

“Well, I hope I’ve got the right number, because I sure could use a microbiologist right about now. Seems we’ve got ourselves an epidemic of sorts, and hell if I know what it is. 

“I sent along what we know so far, but the long and short of it is that I can’t scan it. All I get’s a vague indication of a foreign entity in the lungs. I’m gonna have to do a biopsy if we can’t figure out how to scan this bug. I tried growing it from a swab, but no luck. It’s the damnedest thing.

“Anyway. Get back to me as soon as you can.”

An epidemic? With the Vulcan population reduced to approximately 0.00017% of its number 89 days ago, an epidemic could only be very, very bad news.

He opened the data file immediately.

\---

Jim sat at the desk in his quarters in the dark, only the dull, bluish glow from the console lighting his face. He had a gin and tonic in his hand, but he wasn’t drinking it.

He wanted to drink it. He wanted to drain it then shatter the glass against the wall, but David was asleep in his crib and he was supposedly a responsible adult.

The Enterprise had stopped in to drop off some supplies – more parts for pre-fab buildings, clothing, medical supplies – and her CO, Captain Decker, had granted twelve hours shore leave.

He’d been stoked when Sulu commed to ask if he wanted to go climb up a mountain and bungee jump off it with him and Chekov. It had taken him a whole five minutes, filled with planning the trip over the open comm line, before he realized he couldn’t go.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he’d said. “I have to stay with David. I can’t – I have to stay.”

Even if someone he trusted had been available to watch his son, it was probably still a bad idea for him to do stupid shit like that now. He had someone depending on him to come home every time he left. He couldn’t just go pull death defying stunts because he felt like it anymore.

He had other responsibilities, too, which was new and different. There were twelve people reporting to him, not to mention the _whole planet_ he was supposed to be keeping safe. He was overseeing plans for the orbital defense platform, coordinating training for law enforcement personnel, drafting new customs guidelines for the Ch’Toll port of entry… It seemed never-ending.

So his job was pretty heavy, but he felt like he was settling into it okay. His team seemed to trust him and they were all good people. Apparently he was something of a natural leader, because they all just seemed to accept that he was their boss and do whatever he said. So he wasn’t out discovering new planets, but he could do some good here. It was certainly a worthy cause.

And Akraana wasn’t all bad. Sure, it was hotter than hell and the gravity was ever so slightly higher than he was used to. It had rained in Ch’Toll all of three times since he’d gotten there over two months ago.

But it was… nice. It was quiet and safe, which was good for David, and had places of overwhelming natural beauty he was itching to visit as soon as he got some leave. It also felt pretty good to see the remnants of the Vulcan people start rebuilding their society from the ground up, pulling themselves up by their bootstraps. They seemed to have a sort of natural poise, dignity and determination that wouldn’t let them give up even in the face of unspeakable tragedy. They were building a new world, and he got to be a small part of that.

While awesome, the weight of it was a bit heavy on his shoulders sometimes.

And he was worried about Selek, too. Bones had admitted both him and Sonak yesterday. Their coughs just kept getting worse and Bones couldn’t figure out what was wrong with them. At least T’Sala’s bondmate wasn’t so bad off yet that he had to stay at the clinic.

Bones was a good doctor, and there were at least thirty others staffing the clinic who must at least be competent. They’d figure it out. They had to.

\---

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Hey, I wasn’t sure if I’d hear from you again.

 **191615311.2230.06** : I find I have become accustomed to our conversations. 

**UpToMyEyebrows** : I like talking to you, too.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : So what are you up to lately?

 **191615311.2230.06** : I have been assigned to a new project. Are you aware of an illness spreading amongst the Vulcan population?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Yeah, some of my friends are sick.

 **191615311.2230.06** : I am tasked with isolating the responsible agent so that it might be countered.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Wow, that’s great. Kind of scary, though. 

**191615311.2230.06** : Will it comfort you to know that I am the foremost expert in microbiology on this planet? I am quite confident in my ability to complete this assignment.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : And so humble, too! 

**UpToMyEyebrows** : Have you made any progress yet?

 **191615311.2230.06** : I have determined that the microbe in question cannot be cultured by conventional means.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : So… That’s a no, then.

 **191615311.2230.06** : Negative results are still results.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Yeah, whatever.

 **191615311.2230.06** : Is your child in good health?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Wow, what a graceful subject change.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : He’s good. He’s walking really well now. Hates to sit still.

 **191615311.2230.06** : I suspect he takes after his father in that regard.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Ha. Ha.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Anyway, I taught him to play hide and seek. Have you ever had a cat?

 **191615311.2230.06** : Negative. How is that relevant to a children’s game?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Nevermind. Let’s just say that he thinks as long as he can’t see me, I can’t see him. So basically he hides behind chair legs and stuff. It’s awesome.

 **191615311.2230.06** : You are not concerned about his development of spatial awareness?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Nah, he’s only a baby. He’s fine. And it’s hilarious to watch. I can just picture you raising your eyebrow at him, calling him illogical. You should see it sometime. 

**191615311.2230.06** : Should I?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : I didn’t mean

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : It’s a thing people say.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : You could. If you wanted.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : But it’s a crime you’ve never had a cat. You’re totally a cat person.

\---

Jim looked up when someone walked through the open door of his office.

“Bones? What the hell are you doing here? You’ve never visited me at work before,” he said as he waved a hand at the empty chair.

“Well unlike you, I don’t go around pestering people when they’re on the job.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

Bones shook his head. “If only. No, I’m here to see Commander Kirk.”

Jim’s eyebrows went up. “Really? What’s up, Bones?”

“You know that bug that’s going around? Well, I got this microbiologist from the VSA to look into it, and he managed to get a pretty good micrograph for me.”

“Okay…”

“It looks like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s weird, latticed, crystalline-like. Almost too regular, if you get my meaning.”

“Wait, you mean you think it might be artificial?”

After a beat, Bones nodded slowly. “It’s possible. I’m fast running out of things to try to beat this thing, and the only thing that makes sense to me at this point it that someone designed it to be that way.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Artificial is one thing, but you’re telling me you think this is a biological weapon?”

“I’m not saying that for sure. I’m just telling it like I see it.”

Jim ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. I mean, has anyone even died yet?”

“No, but I’ve got 33 patients in biobeds and another 50-odd outpatients with symptoms.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

“What about Selek? How is he?”

“Not better, that’s for sure,” Bones answered. “He’s got a low-grade fever, still coughing, some chest pain. It’s like some sort of weird cross between pneumonia and TB.”

“But is he… is he okay?”

“He’s bad off, but he’s not dying yet. The disease seems to progress pretty slowly.”

“Well, I guess that’s something,” Jim said. “Is this thing really going around? Should I not bring David to day care?”

“That’s another thing I wanted to tell you. Looks like it doesn’t affect humans, so you don’t need to worry about him. Or yourself, for that matter. Only Vulcans are susceptible.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re just _full_ of good news today.”

\---

_**From:** Commander Kirk, Starfleet Liaison for the Planetary Defense of Akraana_

_**To:** Senior Microbiologist, VSA_

_**Subject:** Epidemic_

_I understand that you’ve been brought in to consult on the recent wave of sickness afflicting the Vulcan residents of Ch’Toll._

_It’s been suggested to me that the disease agent we’re dealing with might not be naturally occurring. As the head of Planetary Defense here on Akraana, it’s my responsibility to ascertain and respond to any planet-wide threats._

_I’d appreciate you looping me in on your research as well as an analysis of the possibility of this disease being a biological weapon based on what you know so far._

_Thank you for your assistance._

_Best regards,  
Cmdr. Kirk_

Spock was initially confused as to why Commander Winona Kirk, a science officer who specialized in the theoretical physics behind transporter technology, would be placed in charge of a military operation that seemed better suited to someone with a tactical background.

Upon further investigation, however, he discovered that it was not she, but her son who was tasked with ensuring that continued safety of the new Vulcan homeworld. 

He was at a loss to explain how that… child had advanced to the rank of commander so quickly. Kirk, a commander? And in charge of the defense of Akraana? It defied all logic.

After a much more thorough investigation, he found a reference in the High Council’s files – it was possible he was not meant to see these files, but presumably if that were the case the encryptions on them would have been much more thorough – that indicated they had specifically requested Kirk for the task.

Curious.

Resolving to put his personal distaste for Kirk aside, or at least cease wasting time because of it, he started opening files to compile into a report.

\---

Jim read the report. Really, he did. It was just that… Well, it didn’t make any sense. 

Seriously, what the hell did ‘non-binding to fluorescent intercolating stains’ and ‘no cleavage with S1 nuclease’ even mean? He was pretty sure diseases didn’t have cleavage.

He tried to look up what Gram-negative meant, but the explanation just confused him even more. He was used to equations and schematics; the Gram article had some sort of cartoon, but even he could tell it was not to scale. Basically, he had two options: call Bones and ask for tutoring or go straight to the source.

His mulling was interrupted when something blocked the viewscreen on his PADD. Jim looked up from his position on his living room floor, surrounded by data chips, and smiled.

“Hey there, buddy. Did you get bored on your play mat?”

David waved his chubby arms and Jim’s grin got bigger. This was the first time David had actually come to him looking for some attention. Definitely a good sign.

“Give me two seconds…” Jim scrolled quickly to the bottom of the report – it was possible he hadn’t actually read the _entire_ thing – looking for contact info. 

He’d just send a quick message and ask for a face-to-face meeting with… Spock?

\---

Jim strode purposefully down the corridor, counting doors as he passed them. The offices didn’t have any signs, but he’d been given a room number. Hopefully it was logical to number the offices in ascending numerical order…

Twenty-three. Must be the place. He raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before he had time to announce himself.

“Mr. Kirk, I expected you 2.2 minutes ago. Be seated,” Spock said, indicating an empty chair.

“It’s Commander, actually,” Jim said as he slid into the chair.

Spock’s lips pressed tight. “I was aware.” He eyed Jim’s grin, which only got bigger until a chuckle escaped. “What is it you find amusing, _Commander_ Kirk?”

“Nothing. It’s just… you _marooned_ me, man!”

Spock’s eyebrows jumped into his hairline. 

“With man-eating beasts and sub-zero temps! You – ” Jim cut himself off with a chuckle. “That was an awesome move.”

“I – awesome? It was against regulations. You could have died,” Spock protested.

“Yeah, that’s what makes it so bad-ass.” Jim smiled and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I didn’t even mean to bring that up. We should talk about your findings.”

“Of course.” Spock turned to his computer, all business, and opened a window. “Please point out the sections of my report that require further explanation and I shall attempt to provide it.”

“Well, it isn’t certain sections so much as… It wasn’t really what I was looking for, if you know what I mean.”

Spock turned back toward him, blinking. “I do not.”

Jim sighed. “I don’t need a run-down of every aspect of this thing. I just want to know if anything points toward it being engineered.”

“I have not found any definitive evidence of engineering.”

Jim frowned and Spock added, “Negative results are still results.”

It felt like maybe his heart stopped for a minute and then started back double-time. “What did you – ? Oh my god, I’m such an idiot! Spock?”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Commander?”

“I can’t believe it. I am so stupid! You’re… you’re him.”

“Are you well, Commander?”

“It’s me, Spock. You told me what you were working on and I have no idea how I didn’t clue in, but it’s got to be you.”

Spock’s eyebrows were furrowed and he looked seriously concerned. “You seem confused. I will contact Dr. – “

“Spock, stop. Or should I say ‘Nineteen Sixteen’… Shit, I can’t even remember the rest.”

Spock paused with his hand halfway to the comm panel and his entire body went still. After an eternal moment, he slowly turned his head to face Jim.

“Eyebrows?”

“You can call me Jim,” he answered, face split in a grin.

\---

“It was pretty boring after that, just shop talk, but can you believe it? It was you the whole time!”

One corner of Selek’s mouth twitched in what was, for a Vulcan, a quite obvious smile.

“The other you, I mean,” Jim added with a wave of his hand.

“Indeed. And how did he react to this revelation?”

“Oh, you know you. He blanked his face and carried on business as usual.”

“And you?”

“Same, basically. So how long has Bones got you staying here?” Jim asked, looking around the clinic.

“For the foreseeable future. But as the disease seems to be progressing slowly and no evidence of person to person transmission has been observed, he has decreed that I may go for walks.”

“Awesome! He’s letting you out?”

“I am to be allowed one hour per day if I ‘behave myself’.”

Jim laughed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

\---

As he did at some point during 78% of his meditation sessions, Spock soothed the frayed end of the bond that was no more. When it was intact, he had never given it – or it’s tether, T’Pring – much thought. Now that it had been unceremoniously ripped apart, it was a constant presence in the back of his mind.

Many Vulcans who survived the massacre had experienced similar trauma, but unlike most of them Spock did not have any family bonds to fill the void in his psyche. His mother had not been capable and his father had refused him. He was luckier than some, however; he could not imagine how damaging it would be for someone accustomed to many bonds if every one of them were severed at once.

His bonding center would remain unfulfilled. He had assumed it would be so even before he learned of his sterility, but now it was a certainty. No one would accept him; he was an illogical choice. There was no point in considering how he would fair if he was cursed with the blood fever. He had no recourse.

Next, Spock found the ball of anger for his father that somehow managed to form anew each day, regardless of whether they had interacted at all, and forced it to dissipate. It was not a productive anger.

In a bout of self-indulgence, he called forth a memory of his mother – she was smiling.

Setting that aside, he turned to meditate on Kirk. _Commander_ Kirk. Commander James Kirk, Starfleet Liaison for Planetary Defense of Akraana. 

Eyebrows.

If he did not have ample evidence to the contrary, he would never believe it. He recalled Kirk as an ignorant, arrogant, willful cadet. Certainly not someone with whom he would wish to interact. And yet, Spock had sought out his companionship 17 times in the forums. They had become… friends. One of very few he could claim in his life. He did not know what would become of that friendship now.

Akraana. Wife of Khosarr, god of war. She who tempered hot anger with cool counsel. She who remembered the consequences of violence and the effects of cruel words. She who saw both sides, and sought to reconcile them.

\---

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : You came back.

 **191615311.2230.06** : Affirmative. 

**UpToMyEyebrows** : Didn’t think you would.

 **191615311.2230.06** : It is gratifying to prove you wrong.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Hey, in this particular instance, I’m happy to be wrong.

 **191615311.2230.06** : Do you truly have a child?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Of course. I don’t think even I would make up a kid just to chat up strangers.

 **191615311.2230.06** : Chat up?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Nevermind. 

**191615311.2230.06** : Did you adopt him? I am quite certain you did not have a child four months ago.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : You’re right, I didn’t have him then. But he’s mine.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : My son, I mean. I didn’t know about him before, but his mother died on Vulcan and they contacted me.

 **191615311.2230.06** : He was there that day?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Yeah, they made it a point to evacuate daycare centers first.

 **191615311.2230.06** : How is he faring?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : He’s doing a lot better. He was really subdued at first, but he’s starting to open up.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : You know, you actually can meet him if you want.

 **191615311.2230.06** : Why would you encourage that?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Well, I don’t think you’re going to corrupt him or anything. Besides, I think he misses his Vulcan babysitter.

 **191615311.2230.06** : Do you, by any chance, speak of my older counterpart?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Hey, how do you know about him? He said the world would implode if you did.

 **191615311.2230.06** : All evidence to the contrary. It was he who encouraged me to relocate to Akraana when I was uncertain of the correct course.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : I wondered what happened to make you resign.

 **191615311.2230.06** : I am merely on extended leave. It was a courtesy offered to all surviving Vulcans.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Oh, that’s cool. Do you think you’ll go back when your leave’s up?

 **191615311.2230.06** : I have not decided. There are 20 months remaining in my leave time, so I have not yet seriously considered the matter.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Wow, talk about extended.

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : Anyway, so if you want to meet David you’re more than welcome to.

 **191615311.2230.06** : His name is David?

 **UpToMyEyebrows** : His name is David.

\---

“What do you think about Spock?”

Bones looked up from his PADD. “Thought we were supposed to call him Selek.”

Jim shook his head. “Not that Spock, the regular one.”

“’Regular’, right. Well, luckily I haven’t had to be in the same room with him yet. He just sends me reports.”

“Hmm.” Jim was perched on Bones’ desk, swinging his legs and lightly hitting the side of the desk each time. So far Bones hadn’t commented, but Jim thought he might be developing a twitch in his temple.

“What do you mean, ‘hmm’?”

“Nothing,” Jim answered with a shrug. “Just I don’t think he’s all that bad.”

“The hobgoblin tried to kill you,” Bones reminded him incredulously. “Twice, actually.”

“I guess,” Jim answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I did sort of deserve it that one time.”

“Jim, what are you up to?”

“Up to?” Jim’s eyebrows went up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why do you care if I like him? Why do _you_ like him?”

“I don’t like him! I just… he’s a good guy. He works hard and he cares about people. And you may not believe me, but he’s got a wicked sense of humor,” Jim added, pointing his finger at Bones.

“Oh my god.” Bones dropped his head into his hands.

“What?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.”

“Can’t believe what?”

Bones jabbed his finger toward the door. “If you came here to moon over _Spock_ of all people, you can get the hell out of my office.”

Jim’s mouth dropped open and stayed that way for a while, until he realized he had absolutely nothing to say to that.

So he left.

\---

“This is fun. Don’t you think?”

Spock tilted his head to one side, considering his answer. So far, they had spent 12.2 minutes watching David trip over wood chips, nearly fall off a slide, stand precariously close to the edge of a 4-foot drop, and run at a speed too fast for his small body to control.

“It is quite engaging.” He raised his arms and half-rose off the bench reflexively when he saw David stumble on the wood chips again, but he did not fall. Spock returned to his former position reluctantly.

“Relax, he’s going to be fine. Kids are more resilient than you think.”

Spock had his doubts about that, but kept them to himself. The boy seemed to have inherited his father’s compulsion to put himself in danger.

“Dada!” David called, waiting to make sure Jim was watching before he plopped onto his bottom and slid the 1.1 meters down the slide once more.

Jim grinned. “Great job, little man!” he called, then turned to Spock. “You know, he just started doing that like a week ago.”

Spock quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. “Sliding?”

“Calling me Daddy.”

“I believe he said ‘Dada’,” Spock felt compelled to point out.

Jim waved his hand. “Whatever, he’s trying.”

“And this pleases you?”

“It does,” Jim answered, looking fondly at his son.

Spock looked away.

\---

[Link to mieaou's art](http://mieaou.livejournal.com/1075.html)

\---

“How many is that now?” Jim asked, watching yet another Vulcan woman try to suppress her coughs as she was admitted to the clinic, Ch’Toll’s only medical facility at present.

“Forty-eight,” Bones answered, poking at his PADD. “Fifteen kids.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Jim scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know Spock says he doesn’t think this is an attack, but it sure seems like one. What are we going to do?”

“Well, don’t get too depressed. Your buddy Sonak is the worst off, and he ain’t dead yet.”

“’Yet’. You make it sound so ominous. Is he that bad?”

“He’s not good. I think if I had the cure today, he might pull through. But I don’t, and after another couple of days there’ll be no going back.”

Jim sighed. “You’re not really making me feel better, Bones.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Bones rolled his eyes. “Is that my job now? I’m a doctor – I deal in facts. The facts are: the situation is far from ideal.”

“Very succinct. That pretty much sums it up,” Jim agreed. “Wouldn’t hurt you to be a little optimistic, though.”

“How do you know?” Bones half-growled, stabbing his PADD with the stylus. 

Jim raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, I promise not to smile, Dr. Grumpy Face.”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“I’m ‘monitoring the situation’,” Jim answered.

“Yeah, I can see that. I’m sure we’d all be lost without you.”

Jim sat in silence for about a minute, monitoring, but he couldn’t last any longer. “So, have you been able to use anything Spock’s found out?”

Bones shook his head. “Not really. It isn’t a whole lot, to be honest. We need every bit of info we can get, of course, but not much of it is clinically relevant.”

“Spock said – ”

“’Spock said’, ‘Spock thinks’. How is Spock, Jim?”

“He’s… Why are you asking me?”

“You seem to be seeing an awful lot of him lately,” Bones said with a shrug.

“Whatever, I’ve seen him like five times. He gets along really well with David.”

“I’m sure he does,” Bones muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bones shrugged again; Jim was definitely beginning to distrust his casual attitude. “Not a thing. Does he know?”

“Know what?”

“That you’re having wet dreams about him.”

Jim gaped. “How the hell… I am _not_!”

Bones finally looked up from his PADD, scowling. “Christ, Jim! I didn’t need to know that. What’s the matter with you?”

“I really have no idea,” Jim answered, dropping his head into his hands.

\---

“I have heard disturbing rumors,” was the first thing Sarek said after the connection was established.

Spock assumed they were concerning the epidemic and his work in connection with it. “Greetings,” he said, with a tinge of sarcasm his father would probably detect. Spock found he did not care.

Sarek’s eyebrows lowered. “You have been seen in the company of a human.”

Spock was momentarily speechless, but he recovered quickly. “What concern is that of yours?”

“A human male,” Sarek elaborated. “On multiple occasions.”

“What, precisely, is the nature of your dissatisfaction?”

“What, precisely, is the nature of your interaction with him?” Sarek parried.

“That is not your concern.” He himself was hardly certain. It was not likely he would confide in Sarek.

“It is ‘personal’?” Sarek supplied.

Spock could not understand the source of Sarek’s anger. Had he not had extensive interactions with humans himself? Why was his son to be held to a different standard? 

“This is not logical.”

Sarek’s countenance simmered. 

“What do you find objectionable in my association with Jim?”

“ _Jim_?”

“Commander Kirk,” Spock clarified.

“You seem to be on quite familiar terms,” Sarek accused.

“That is your objection?”

“It is not appropriate.”

“And why is that?” Spock asked. He could not see what Sarek could possibly find to which to object. Spock had done nothing wrong.

Sarek pressed his lips tight together before answering. “You bring shame to your clan.”

He signed off before Spock could sputter his reply.

\---

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, Jim.”

“But… But you said he was fine to go for the walks,” Jim said. He thought he should be screaming, but he just felt sort of numb.

Bones sighed. “I actually asked him to stop two days ago. When Sonak died. He’s a stubborn man, but I honestly don’t think it would have made much difference if he’d stayed put.”

“Was he…? I mean, they found him on the sidewalk…”

“He didn’t suffer overly, if that’s what you mean. He would have passed out from lack of oxygen long before it got truly painful.”

Jim gulped. “I guess that’s… good then.”

“The best we could hope for under the circumstances, I think.”

“Does this… I hate to say it, but does this help you at all?”

Bones drooped. “I took a biopsy from Sonak’s right lung, but it’s like the damn things just disintegrated right after he died. Turned to dust. With more… fluids available, I think I might have more luck purifying antibodies to this thing.”

“You think so?”

“I hope so.”

“And that’ll help?”

“It won’t help the people who are already sick, but it might get us closer to some sort of vaccine. Maybe. Nothing in this is certain.”

“That’s the truth.”

“I really am sorry, kid.”

“You did your best. I don’t know what to do with David. We were supposed to come visit him tomorrow. He’s going to miss his Uncle Selek.”

Bones clapped him on the back in support. “My advice: just don’t lie to him. Don’t tell him he’s gone on a trip or he’s busy, or anything stupid like that. Selek was his friend, too. He doesn’t need details, obviously, but he deserves the truth.”

“Right, easy as that.”

“No one ever said it was going to be easy.”

“Yeah.” Jim sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve gotta comm Spock. He should know what’s happened.”

“Yeah, Jim. You do that.”

\---

Spock read through the message as quickly as he could, even skipping over a few words that were likely superfluous. At first, he had been skeptical, but the more he read the more sense he began to make of it. His hands itched to get to his samples and start experimenting, but he knew he must read the entire message.

Selek wrote that he had seen a peculiar tunnel on his daily constitutional, a tunnel that was perfectly round with sides as smooth as glass. A tunnel he recognized.

Selek’s hypothesis was that his friend Sonak, who had been stationed at the mining colony on Janus VI before the destruction of Vulcan, was the inadvertent cause. Selek had witnessed Sonak’s collection of geological specimens gathered on his various travels and now suspected that one of them was actually the external casing of the zygote of an organism native to that planet: the Horta. 

According to Selek, the Horta life cycle involved one mother organism laying thousands of eggs, which would lie dormant for approximately 50,000 years before hatching simultaneously. The change of environment must have precipitated the premature hatching of the specimen Sonak had brought to Akraana.

The tunnels, Spock discovered, were the result of the Horta feeding. As a silicon-based life form—of course, of course the tricorders had been unable to detect them!—the Horta fed on rock by dissolving it with an acidic substance excreted from its body. 

There, Selek’s information ended. He speculated that a microorganism had been transported along with the embryonic Horta, but had no evidence of such. 

As Spock reached for his comm link, the door to his office banged open.

“Spock.”

“Jim,” Spock answered, nodding at his visitor. He was on the verge of explaining that he had urgent business and suggesting they speak later when he really took in the look on Jim’s face.

“Jim? What is the matter?”

Jim collapsed into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. “That obvious, huh?”

“Indeed. Is David well?”

“He’s fine,” Jim answered, looking up but not at Spock. “It’s… it’s Selek.”

Spock’s eyes darted toward the message still open on his computer. “Explain.”

“He’s… I’m so sorry, Spock, but he died this afternoon.”

Spock felt as if all the air left his lungs at once. He opened his mouth, but could not speak. After a moment, he made a second attempt. “He succumbed to the disease?”

Jim nodded. “Yeah.”

Spock looked once more toward his computer screen. “Perhaps we may take comfort in the knowledge that he has provided us with what I expect will be the key to developing a cure.”

Most of the grief fell away from Jim’s face and his eyes widened. “Cure?” he whispered.

\---

“Silicon, Jim! Why didn’t I think of this before?”

“Lazy bum, taking your time,” Jim answered with a grin. “So you can scan it now?”

“Spock managed to recalibrate the tricorders. It’s like night and day,” Bones answered, thrusting his PADD under Jim’s nose. “Would you look at that?”

Jim saw a blob on a background of… squishiness. He cocked his head to the side, but the image did not resolve into anything recognizable. “I’m looking… What am I looking at?”

Bones snorted. “That’s it, Jim. That’s the critter! You can see how it’s gotten itself into the alveolus and multiplied, filled it right up. This here’s the extracellular matrix—made of silicon particles! It was practically pumping sand into their lungs, if you can believe it!”

“That’s… pretty gross. So can you fix it, or what?”

Bones’ exuberance faded a fraction. “We’re almost there. Spock’s pretty sure that Horta critter’s the only source of it, so we’ve got some people working on tracking it down so no more get infected. As for the sick, it’s just a matter of finding something to kill the litter buggers without making the patients even sicker. Spock’s got them growing now, so it shouldn’t be too long before he figures out how to kill ‘em.”

“Well, I guess that’s good then.”

Bones gave a wry smile. “You never heard me say it, but things are finally looking up.”

\---

“You sure it’s all right?” Jim asked. “‘Palatable’ isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement.”

Spock resisted the momentary urge to roll his eyes. “While I remain skeptical concerning its nutritional value, the taste is pleasing.”

Jim’s eyes twinkled when he smiled. “Ah, ‘pleasing’. That’s much better.” He leaned over to place another noodle on David’s plate. “You up for seconds?”

“Negative. I am sufficiently sated.”

“Okay then,” Jim answered, already standing to stack up dishes and reaching to wipe the worst of the mess from David’s face. “How about we move into the living room, then? You want some coffee?”

“Do you have any tea?”

Jim frowned. “I’d have to replicate it. What do you think?”

“That is acceptable.”

“Awesome. You go get comfy, and I’ll get the drinks. See you in a sec.”

Jim busied himself pressing buttons on various kitchen appliances, so Spock removed himself to the living area. Jim’s quarters were larger than his own, but that was to be expected with higher occupancy. While the general proportions and layout were similar, Spock found that his quarters seemed empty and impersonal compared to Jim’s. Books, holos, toys, and paperwork surrounded him. This place felt like a home.

“Have a seat, make yourself at home,” Jim said as he bustled into the room, startling Spock out of his perusal. Jim placed his tray on the coffee table and sat in the armchair, so Spock settled into a corner of the sofa.

“I brought all the fixings so you can make it just right. I hope spice tea’s okay.”

“Indeed. It is my preferred flavor.”

Jim beamed at him and it seemed that he could feel a knot form in his chest. Illogical.

“Hey, there you are,” Jim said, looking toward the doorway where David was toddling in from the kitchen. “I’ve got Steve,” he added, grabbing a stuffed stegosaurus from the floor near his feet and wiggling it in the air.

David came toward them, but instead of going to his father he climbed onto the sofa next to Spock and subsequently, to Spock’s silent horror, into his lap. 

He could feel his eyebrows reaching for his hairline. David must have witnessed their ascent also, because he stood up on Spock’s thighs, bracing one hand against his chest, and reached up to trace the straight line of the left one. Spock held himself perfectly still—in anticipation of what, he did not know.

“‘Pock, ‘Pock, ‘Pock,” David said, bouncing his knees, then plopped onto his bottom with a jolt. He reached out to Spock’s right and pulled a soft rubber sea serpent from a fold in the sofa, which he promptly put in his mouth.

Slowly, he turned to look at Jim. If he had expected him to be angry or jealous at his son’s attention being usurped, he was mistaken.

Jim was giving him a crooked, toothy grin that tied another knot in his chest. Spock had no idea what to say.

“So how’s that cure coming, then?” Jim asked suddenly, still smiling.

“It… That is, I believe I have found an effective antibiotic agent. Possibly.”

Jim smile got impossibly wider. “That’s awesome! Tell me about it.”

And so Spock, at a loss at to how else to respond to (or even define) the situation in which he found himself, did.

\---

[Link to jadebriady's art](http://s816.photobucket.com/albums/zz85/JadeBraidy/?action=view&current=kkbbuntitled212.jpg)

\---

Jim couldn’t believe it. After months of worry, of watching his friends and coworkers fall sick, of helplessness and guilt at his own relief that humans were immune, they had a cure. The first to receive treatment were already improving and Jim felt like a huge weight had been lifted off the colony.

For the first time in… he couldn’t remember how long, Jim took the time to just look around himself. There were still no sidewalks, but the road was wide and smooth. He could only spot a few of the boxy pre-fab metal buildings with their faded, ‘god only knows what color that used to be’ paint.

People – some humans, a few Andorians, a handful of single representatives of other species, but mostly Vulcans – bustled through the streets and in and out of buildings like they had things to do, things they wanted to do. They moved with confidence, with calm, easy purpose, and it made Jim smile. While he had been focused on something dark and terrible, Ch’Toll and its inhabitants had continued to grow and thrive.

“Commander Kirk,” snapped a cool, authoritative voice that almost had him coming to attention, and the smile melted off his face.

“Ambassador Sarek, what can I do for you?” The scowl on Sarek’s face, quite pronounced for a Vulcan, was almost scary. Once his eyebrows lowered, it was definitely scary. Jim was pretty sure he was in big trouble for something and he really wasn’t looking forward to being berated for whatever it was.

“I wish to express my gratitude for your efforts in eradicating the disease plaguing my people. We are, once more, in your debt.”

It took Jim a moment to recover from Sarek’s words and to reconcile the still harsh look on his face with his considerate words. “I, uh, that’s really nice of you but I didn’t have very much to do with it.”

“Your team located the creature and successfully returned it to its home planet.”

“Can’t argue with that, I guess, but it was Bones and Spock who cured the disease.”

“I acknowledge their roles as well, ” Sarek answered with a nod.

“Did you acknowledge it to their faces?”

Sarek blinked. “Negative.”

“Well, you should think about it. It would mean a lot to them to hear it from you.”

Sarek grasped his hands behind his back and looked off into the sky. “I will consider your words.”

\---

“You want some more tea?”

“Negative,” Spock answered, then added after a pause, “Thank you for inquiring.”

Jim nodded, sipping the last of his coffee.

“If I may, Jim, where is David this evening?”

“Oh, he’s with Bones. I think the old grump missed him lately, having to work such long hours on the epidemic.” Jim toyed with the handle of his cup. “He’s, uh, keeping him for the night.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. He suspected there was some sort of hidden meaning he was meant to discern from Jim’s statement, but it was not apparent to him.

“Is this his first full night away from you?”

Jim ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I’m trying not to panic. I know Bones will take good care of him, and it’s not like he won’t comm me if something does happen. Hey, do you mind if I…?”

Jim did not finish his question, but his intent became apparent when he rose from his chair and walked the few steps to Spock’s customary seat on the sofa, then, without waiting for an answer, sat down right beside him.

Their bodies were not quite touching, but Spock tensed at his closeness. He knew that humans did not generally require as much personal space as Vulcans, but this was surely inappropriate.

Just as he finally grew accustomed enough to Jim’s presence to release the breath he had been holding, he felt a weight alight on his knee and gasped audibly.

“Spock?”

Jim’s hand was on his thigh. Spock could not stop staring at it.

“Am I making you uncomfortable? I’m sorry, I thought…” Jim muttered as he withdrew his hand.

Without a thought, Spock found his own hand darting out to tighten around Jim’s wrist before it got too far away. “There is no offense where none is taken,” he murmured, looking at the place where their flesh touched. It was a struggle not to lower his mental shields.

“That’s… good.”

Spock made no answer. His skin was buzzing with sensation, almost as if sparks were radiating from the limited area of contact between them.

Jim’s fist clenched and Spock suddenly realized he was probably exerting too much pressure and released him. If he’d expected the hand to retreat, he was mistaken; it simply executed a nimble twist and wrapped around his own, tugging, silently asking him to follow, to stand.

He did.

Jim raised his other hand, and Spock felt the brief touch of a thumb across his jaw.

“Why don’t we… ,” Jim gestured toward an open doorway. “Come with me.”

Jim turned, stepping toward the doorway and Spock, attached as he was by the hand and by so many other things, followed. Jim closed the door behind them, but did not call up the lights. However, in the bedroom – for a it was a bedroom, Jim’s bedroom – there was a large window that let in the cool light of Alpha Centauri A, bright enough in the night sky that lights were not strictly necessary. Spock observed the play of light in Jim’s hair, turning it silvery-white where it ought to have been golden.

Spock reached out with his free hand, illogically wishing for tactile confirmation that it had not actually changed, that this was Jim. Just as he made contact, he felt arms come around him, pulling him closer, an exhalation on his skin that formed the words, “Oh, Spock,” a soft press of full lips against the corner of his mouth.

His entire body shuddered and his hand involuntarily tightened into a fist in Jim’s hair. He released it as soon as he recognized the fact. “My apologies.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Jim answered, still close enough that Spock felt every syllable against his cheek. “Is this okay?” he asked, taking a small step backward, enough so that the only parts of his body touching Spock’s were his hands, “Are… you okay?”

“I am functioning adequately.”

“That’s not really what I meant. Do you… Is this what you want?”

Spock’s gaze drifted toward the floor. “I find myself uncertain precisely what ‘this’ is.”

“’This’ is me wanting you,” Jim answered, as if that were an answer.

“Wanting me for what?”

Jim’s thumbs rubbed circles on his hips. “For… you know, for the usual things?” Jim’s chuckle had an odd edge to it. “I want to be with you, to be close with you. I want us to belong to each other, if that’s what you want too. I want us to be a family. And I want this.”

Jim demonstrated his meaning by leaning forward and taking possession of Spock’s mouth with his own. Spock had thought he knew what to expect, but this was nothing like his limited experience. With Nyota, his thoughts had focused on how wet, messy, and ultimately unsanitary the experience was.

With Jim… 

With Jim, he could not think.

Everything was sensation: the slick slide of Jim’s tongue, the sharp nip of his teeth, the tugging and pressing and caressing of his lips; Jim’s hands seemingly everywhere at once, moving from his hair to his shoulders to his chest before suddenly pulling Spock’s shirt out of his trousers and slipping inside.

At the contact of Jim’s cool hands against his fevered skin, Spock heard a groan that he was somewhat taken aback to discover must have come from himself.

“What about you, Spock? What do you want?”

“I want… I want you, Jim. But I do not – I am unfamiliar – ” Spock broke off, uncertain how even to continue his sentence.

“You’ve never…? I thought you and Uhura…?”

“No, I… No, Jim. We were never… intimate. I am sorry for – ”

“Stop right there, mister. That’s nothing to apologize for. You just be sure to tell me if I try something you don’t like, understand?”

Spock nodded, swallowing past the tightness in his throat.

“Good. Now, where were we?”

Jim’s hands were back on his skin and before he could think to answer, he found that most of his clothing was now pooled around his feet. A scant few seconds more, and they were both naked.

Jim was beautiful. His skin had a light sheen of sweat on it, and he was flushed pink all over.

“Wow, it’s so green!”

And Spock remembered that he was just as open for perusal as Jim. “Do you find it… displeasing?”

“Not at all! I just… Let me look at it closer.” Jim’s hands started at his shoulders, slid down to his waist, and began guiding him back toward the bed. “Lie down, let me look at you,” he entreated.

Spock did, because Jim had asked it of him and in this moment he would have done anything Jim wished. His prone position also afforded him a much better view of Jim’s naked body. His penis was red with blood, engorged, pointed upward at an angle of approximately 40 degrees, and his chest rose and fell rapidly with his labored breathing.

Spock hoped Jim would not find the slightly different arrangement of his body, the shape of his sexual organ, his stilted responses off-putting. Hope was illogical – he knew this, but he seemed to care much less than usual what was logical and what was not.

“You’re gorgeous. I can’t… This… You’re just so gorgeous,” Jim muttered as he crawled up the bed, over Spock’s body until they were nose to nose. “I want you so much,” he whispered into Spock’s mouth, straightening his knees to let his weight rest deliciously on top of Spock.

“Have me,” Spock answered, spreading his legs enough that Jim’s pelvis settled more firmly against his own. 

Jim dropped his head onto Spock’s shoulder. “Shit, Spock, you can’t say stuff like that.”

When Jim thrust his hips, dragging his sexual organ over Spock’s own, it was a sensation unlike anything Spock had been prepared for and a strangled, whining moan escaped him before he could prevent it.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Jim encouraged, and the thrusting took on a rhythm, one clearly designed to render Spock incoherent. 

Pressed tight as he was between the bed beneath him and the writhing, sweat-slicked body above, Spock felt impossibly as if he were flying. 

Or perhaps falling would describe it more accurately: a dizzying, elating free-fall.

But he was not alone; Jim was there with him, holding him, keeping him from flying apart, falling just as he was. They moved against each other, but in tandem, dancing to an ancient song.

The tempo rose and fell, sweeping them along with it, carrying them through crescendos and key changes and codas that brought them back to places they had been. The final stanza began to build and Spock tried to hold on; he did not wish this to end.

But he could sense it coming, nonetheless. In a climax of cymbal crashes and trumpet fanfare and bright lights behind his eyes, it ended.

When at last the lingering notes of violins began to fade, Spock opened his eyes, and there was Jim, his Jim, looking back at him in awe. He opened his mouth, but no words were forthcoming.

Jim took the opportunity to kiss him again, slower now and gentler. “”How’re you doing?” he asked.

How was he? He did not know. He felt that something, something fundamental, had changed in the last few minutes. There had been a shift, both within him and without, and he did not know precisely how it left him.

“I am… I am more than satisfactory.”

“Ooh, more than? Wow.”

“Jim, I – ”

“It’s okay,” Jim interrupted, threading his fingers through Spock’s hair. “I get it. Do you… want to stay?”

If at all possible, he would never leave. “If that is permissible.”

“Permission granted. You stay just as long as you like.”

 

END


End file.
